


Guide Me Into Tomorrow

by TastesLikeCream



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Amused Gandalf, Bearded Dwarf Women, Blind Bilbo, Bofur is a Sweetheart, Cultural Differences, Dwalin Is A Softie, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/F, F/M, Female Bilbo, Female Dori, Fíli and Kíli Are Little Shits, Gandalf Meddles, Language of Flowers, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mother Hen Dori, Nori is a Little Shit, Ori Is A Sweetheart, Rule 63, Thorin Is an Idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-20 05:42:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TastesLikeCream/pseuds/TastesLikeCream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had expected brown eyes—hazel eyes were a stretch. They expected this of course after the child’s eyes lost their newborn blue. A blue gazed at them. But the eyes were foggy, clouded. Bungo’s eyebrows furrowed as he reached out and brushed a finger over the delicate lashes; hoped it was something to do with the trauma of birth. But when the baby blinked, her eyes rolled about in their sockets and it took a long moment for them to focus back onto her parents once more.</p><p>On hiatus</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Belladonna and Bungo noticed it the second the midwife’s face paled and she gazed at the baby with a worried look; turning away from them. Their baby’s cries were filling the room and allowed everyone to know her lungs were working just fine. Her color was fine from their limited viewpoint. A headful of coppery albeit bloody curls appeared to be just fine and dandy as well. But still the midwife hesitated to put the baby in Belladonna’s arms and when she finally did, both hobbits saw why. They had expected brown eyes—hazel eyes were a stretch. They expected this of course after the child’s eyes lost their newborn blue. A blue gazed at them. But the eyes were foggy and clouded. Bungo’s eyebrows furrowed as he reached out and brushed a finger over the delicate lashes in the hopes it was something to do with the trauma of birth. But when the baby blinked, her eyes rolled about in their sockets and it took a long moment for them to focus back onto her parents once more. 

“It’ll be fine,” Belladonna promised her husband as she moved the baby to nurse. “Our little Bella will be just fine.” 

Bella grew to be a lovely child but despite her parents’ hopes, the fogginess of her eyes did not fade away. When she turned five, Belladonna noticed her walking down the hallway and worried when she slammed into a table. 

“Bella, are you okay?” Belladonna asked, kneeling down to meet her daughter’s eyes. Bella blinked and rolled her eyes until they finally focused on her mother and nodded; eyebrows furrowed. 

“I didn’t see it.” She concluded finally and shrugged before she moved around the table, though she held a hand out. As the fogginess grew, Bella’s eyesight faded more and more. 

She would bump into things; stare at walls; become stuck in corners or under things until Belladonna or Bungo realized what had happened and helped her. Bit by bit, the blue was slowly claimed by the milky whiteness that was taking over her eyes until the morning came when they awoke to Bella screaming for help. Both Belladonna and Bungo rushed to her bedroom; fear rising in their chests as they ripped the door open. Bella sat up in her bed, clawing at the air; repeating one phrase over and over: ‘I can’t see, I can’t see.’


	2. Adventures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella ended up left behind or lost, even when she accepted. She preferred the company of her mother who taught her how to read; running her fingers along the raised words of the special books the rangers had brought her. Her mother who taught her each and every corner of their smial until Bella was an expert at navigating it. Her father who taught her to write by holding her hand in his and guiding their hands together; tracing her fingers over the finished letter and reading back to her what she just wrote. Her life lacked a few things perhaps—friendships that would last over the years of hardships and difficulty; a sweetheart perhaps. Her life lacked little really and she was fine with that, especially after her parent’s death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so this story already has twenty subscribers! I can't thank you all enough for the support and kudos and comments and stuff! Ahhh, I'm so excited! I got a five day weekend coming up on Friday so I will try and crank out as many updates as possible but we'll see. Because before that I have a paper due; two tests and each time I say I'm going to write on long weekends, it never happens. So we'll see but thank you so much again guys and enjoy.

Life became an adjustment for the Baggins family after the day Bella woke up, screaming that she could not see. While they sat and comforted their daughter, her eyes darted back and forth desperately until she asked what had happened to her. They listed off every definition they could think of her; told her of her birth. They held out hope as a healer came out and examined her eyes that maybe perhaps this was some temporary thing a midwife had overlooked. But even he shook his head as he tucked away his things and turned to them.

“Your daughter is blind,” He promised them and both parents sighed. “All I can tell you to do is make adjustments to your life—help her learn to move about the house; identify with her surroundings better. A walking stick could help. Prepare her for living life some day without you.” The healer advised. Both Belladonna and Bungo turned towards their daughter who had sat dutifully still throughout the poking and prodding; pale eyes unblinking as she stared at nothing particular.

“I had not thought of a walking stick.” Belladonna mused and a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Nor had I.” Bungo agreed.

It soon did not become uncommon to see the Baggins family in the market; Bella’s walking stick tapping out a path before them. Some hobbits stared at the family until Belladonna turned a searing glare onto them and they then turned back to their shopping. Others watched interested as Belladonna taught her daughter how to shop for food; using smell and touch. Some of the braver children would sneak up at that time and ask questions. Others though mostly stood back, uncomfortable by the sight of the young girl’s eyes.

Bella was not an unfriendly child but she did not have many friends growing up if any at all. She would sit in the garden, face turned up to the sun and eyes closed with a content look on her face as the other children all played together. If it bothered her, she didn’t say anything but simply clung to her mother’s skirts tighter or leaned against her father more.

At parties her aunts and uncles would sometimes force her cousins to go and play with her. But their attempts were halfhearted as they asked her to play and always Bella ended up left behind or lost, even when she accepted. She preferred the company of her mother who taught her how to read; running her fingers along the raised words of the special books the rangers had brought her. Her mother who taught her each and every corner of their smial until Bella was an expert at navigating it. Her father who taught her to write by holding her hand in his and guiding their hands together; tracing her fingers over the finished letter and reading back to her what she just wrote. Her life lacked a few things perhaps—friendships that would last over the years of hardships and difficulty; a sweetheart perhaps. Her life lacked little really and she was fine with that, especially after her parent’s death.

* * *

 

One of the biggest pleasures Bella took in her life these days was to sit outside her smial and smoke her pipe; content to close her eyes and tilt her face back to the warmth of the sun. She could not however remember her pipe smoke ever coming back to hit her in the face when there was no wind. She coughs and chokes, clearing her throat.

“I can’t remember it ever doing that before.” She mutters, clearing her throat.

“Forgive me for that my dear,” Someone apologizes. “My fault, I’m afraid.” The voice was unfamiliar, not a voice of the Shire, a man’s voice.

“Good morning.” Bella greets, her eyes still closed.

“What do you mean?” The voice demands. “Do you mean to wish me a good morning or do you mean that it is a good morning whether I want it to be or not? Or perhaps you mean to say you feel good on this particular morning. Or are you simply stating that this is a morning to be good on?” Bella sits a bit stunned at the man’s response, chewing on the end of her pipe.

“All of them at once I suppose,” Bella mumbles. The man’s silent and Bella slowly turns her body, preparing to stand from the bench and calmly go inside. But her mother’s voice in the back of her head; telling her not to dare be rude stops her. “Can I help you?” She asks.

“That remains to be seen,” The man muses, his voice growing low pitched like he’s telling a fairy tale to children. “I’m looking for someone to share in an adventure.” Adventures were what her mother went on. Adventures were what she dreamt of a child. Adventures were what she dreamt of now; where she could see colors, shapes, really see. Adventures were truly nothing more than dreams though.

“An adventure,” Bella parrots. “I don’t imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures,” She stands, grabbing her walking stick and moving down the familiar path towards the mailbox. “Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things—make you late for dinner.” She grabs hold of her mail, humming as she tucks it under her arm. “Good morning.” Bella turns away, tapping her way up the steps to her smial.

“To think that I should have lived to been ‘good morninged’ by Belladonna Took’s daughter, as if I was selling buttons at the door!” The man exclaims from behind her, stopping her in her path.

“Beg your pardon?” Bella mutters, turning slowly.

“You’ve changed and not entirely for the better Bella Baggins.” The man says with no hidden amount of disappointment in his voice.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Bella was genuinely confused and starting to become more than a little annoyed.

“You remember my name though you don’t remember I belong to it. I’m Gandalf,” The man, Gandalf introduces himself. “And Gandalf means—me.” Bella had vague memories of a wizard named Gandalf. Each memory was accompanied by the sound of popping, explosive fireworks.  

“Not Gandalf, the wandering wizard who made such excellent fireworks. Old Took used to have them on Midsummers Eve!” Bella exclaims excitedly with a small chuckle. “I had no idea you were still in business.”

“And where else should I be?” Gandalf demands. Bella trails off, chewing idly on the end of her pipe. “I’m pleased to see you remember something about me….Even if it’s only my fireworks. Well that’s decided!” Gandalf says matter-of-factly. “It’ll be very good for you and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others.” He says lightly and Bella swears she hears a smile in his voice.

“Inform the who?” Bella cries. “No, no, no. Wait. We do not want _any_ adventures here. Thank you,” Bella stamps her foot decidedly, reaching for the smial door. “Not today. I suggest you try over the hill or across the water. Good morning.” She opens the door hurriedly, practically sprinting inside as she slams the door shut; leaning back against it heavily.

* * *

 

Gandalf would always remember his first meeting with Bella Baggins. She had clung to her mother’s skirts all night, refusing to budge. She would not go and play with her cousins; was not tempted by the idea of hide and seek or dancing. It was not until Gandalf lit his fireworks did her milky eyes brighten and the fog seemed to clear for a moment.

“Bella!” Bungo cried as his daughter darted towards the sound. She stopped short and gazed towards the sky with an amazed look.

“More?” She pleaded with Gandalf. The wizard obliged happily and with each firework, Bella jumped and squealed, laughed and giggled. Her milky eyes were bright, turned up towards the night sky, alight with the fireworks.

“Thank you, Gandalf.” Belladonna told him later when the fireworks and festivities had finally settled down.

“I enjoyed seeing her happiness my dear Belladonna.” Gandalf promised though he did not miss the thoughtful look on Belladonna’s face.

“I worry for her,” Belladonna confessed. “I wonder sometimes if she wasn’t born this way, would she be like me in my youth. Would she be adventurous? Would she try and make it as far as Rivendell?”

“I believe any parent with a child such as Bella has thought the same thing,” Gandalf reassured her. “I wonder too.”

“I can only do so much Gandalf,” Belladonna looked towards her daughter who rested peacefully. “I could take her on an adventure if I wished. But maternal instinct, protective nature limits just how much I can allow her to do—how much I would allow her to do.”

“An adventure she will have, my dear Belladonna,” Gandalf promised, laying his hand atop hers as they gazed as the sleeping fauntling. “An adventure she will have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I own nothing. All rights go to J.R.R. Tolkien and Peter Jackson. I'm sorry if the whole "good morninged" by Belladonna Took's daughter part seemed I don't know, choppy I guess. But I was struggling with that part.


	3. A Unique Hobbit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Mister Gandalf?” Dori asks, holding up the teapot. “May I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?” 
> 
> “Oh, no thank you, Dori,” The wizard shakes his head. “A little red wine for me, I think.” Dori hesitates as his eyes move towards the hobbit, clutching her walking stick. “She won’t bite your head off if you ask politely.” Gandalf advises, winking at the dwarrowdam as he turns away.

Dori is not sure what to expect when she sees their burglar. She partly expects a tall, rugged, hardened person from the race of men. Someone who’s faced battle, goblins and orcs, a warrior. Mahal, they were asking them to go up against a dragon. The Shire is filled with anything but rugged, hardened people from the race of men. Dori catches sight of children in front yards, all of them barefoot and curly haired. Mothers stand on the doorsteps of some of the houses, she notices, trying in vain to get their children to come inside. The women she notes are just as curly haired and barefoot. Their feet are enormous, the tops covered with a soft, downy fur. Their faces though, Dori notices are bare. Not a trace of stubble or whisker on any. Beside her, Ori sketches furiously, trying desperately to record every detail. 

“You think our burglar will look like one of them?” Ori asks her, nodding towards a mother ushering one of her children inside. 

“We’re about to find out,” Dori says, nodding towards a green door. It was like the others except there on the door was a rune etched by Gandalf, glowing. “Behave yourself, Nori.” Dori hisses as they move towards the door. Nori rolls his eyes but nods. 

“Mr. Gandalf,” Ori turns toward the wizard. “What is our burglar like?” Gandalf leans against his staff, a thoughtful look on his face as Bofur rings the bell. 

“Our burglar is a very unique hobbit,” Gandalf muses. “There are no others like her in the Shire.” From inside the house comes an annoyed tone, ranting. Dori leans closer along with the other dwarves, all determined to hear the voice. 

“No, there’s nobody home,” The voice declares angrily. Beneath the voice, there’s a rhythmic tapping sound coming closer and closer to the door as the voice grows louder. “Go away and bother somebody else! There are far too many dwarves in my dining room as it is. If this is some blunt head’s idea of a joke, I can only say that it is in very poor taste.” The door’s yanked open and the dwarves all fall forward with a loud cry, landing atop each other with a collective groan. Gandalf hovers behind them, peering at the group with an amused stare. The voice that ranted only moments ago is suddenly silent now as the dwarves scramble off each other. Dori nearly doesn’t hear Ori’s sharp intake of breath and soft ‘o’ as she helps her stand. 

“What is it?” Dori asks. Ori clears her throat, blushing as she ducks her head, ashamed. 

“I—I’m sorry Miss Baggins. I didn’t know,” Ori apologizes, wringing her hands worriedly. Dori follows her sisters gaze to the hobbit; oblivious to the others pushing past them and towards the kitchen. The hobbit stands in a patchwork robe, tied tightly around her middle. Like the others they’d seen on the ride here, she’s barefoot with enormous feet. The tops of her feet are covered with a soft, downy brown hair. Beneath the robe, signs of an ample bosom strain against the fabric with pale skin, untouched by scars. A button nose, full lips and a hairless face—just like the other hobbits. But her eyes, Dori isn’t prepared for her eyes. Milky white eyes roll around in their sockets, unfocused and panicked, her body taut as a bowstring. Her walking stick is extended in front of her, touching the tip of Ori’s boot. 

“It’s okay,” The hobbit promises, giving a strained smile. “You were simply curious.” Behind them Gandalf clears his throat, tapping Ori gently on the shoulder. 

“Why don’t you both go and join the others in the kitchen? I need to talk to our Miss Baggins.” Dori nods and quickly escorts her sister towards the dining room where the dining room where the others all are.

“What did you say to her?” Dori asks, casting a glance back at their burglar. She now stands with her hands on her hips, glaring up at Gandalf. Ori fidgets nervously as they duck into the pantry, grabbing a thing of tomatoes. 

“I saw her eyes and asked what happened,” Ori mutters. “She told she was born like that.” 

“Indeed she was,” Gandalf muses from the doorway, causing both of them to jump. “Though she did have some of her sight when she was a child.”

“So she’s completely blind now?” Nori asks, joining them in the pantry. “Tell me wizard, what use is a blind burglar going to be to us?” Gandalf doesn’t flinch at the tone as he turns towards the star haired dwarf. 

“You will find Miss Bella Baggins is not ordinary hobbit,” Gandalf muses. “And blind she may be. But that is just a word.” Just a word, my foot Dori thinks as she follows her brother and sister out of the pantry. Their burglar was walking about the chaos that was the dwarves she noticed, her walking stick tapping out a pattern as she begged and pleaded with them to put things back. The others clutched wine, barrels of ale, plates of pastries, meats. Nori carries a thing of sausages around his neck and Dori resists her urge to smack him over the head as she approaches Gandalf. 

“Mister Gandalf?” Dori asks, holding up the teapot. “May I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?” 

“Oh, no thank you, Dori,” The wizard shakes his head. “A little red wine for me, I think.” Dori hesitates as he his eyes move towards the hobbit, clutching her walking stick. “She won’t bite your head off if you ask politely.” Gandalf advises, winking at the dwarrowdam as he turns away. 

“Miss Bella?” Dori approaches the hobbit carefully. She’d changed from her patchwork robe into a pair of suspenders and button down shirt though she still clutches her walking stick. At the sound of Dori’s voice, her grip on it tightens and the milky eyes roll in their sockets like a frightened horse. “Would you mind showing me where some red wine is?”  
The hobbit sighs and nods, gesturing for Dori to follow her.

“Not a problem, Mister…” She trails off.

“Dori,” The hobbit moves cautiously through her house, the walking stick barely making a sound as it taps the ground. “They won’t hurt you,” She promises quietly, trying desperately to relieve the tenseness in the hobbit’s shoulders. “We dwarves value women and children above all else.” 

“I’m not used to others being in my smial,” Bella confesses. “I’m worried about bumping into someone or jamming my walking stick into toes…” 

“Not many visitors then I take it?” Dori’s tone is not condescending but curious. Bella hums, shrugging. 

“I get visitors occasionally but none like this,” Bella confesses. She runs her hand along a shelf, a small ‘ah’ sound escaping her lips as she extracts a bottle of wine. “Here you are.” 

“How do you know—I mean how can you tell where things are?” Dori asks awkwardly as she accepts the bottle. “If you cannot see…” Bella turns around, her milky eyes softer, the panic lessened. 

“My mother and father wanted to make sure I was prepared for life when they were gone,” Bella’s tone is soft. “So they taught me all about our house, where everything is. I know every corner, every crevice,” She clears her throat, handing over the bottle. “We should get back to the others.” Dori follows after the hobbit and is relieved to notice that Ori’s keeping a close eye on Nori as she sits down. 

Any chance of conversation with the hobbit is destroyed as everyone eats. Foods tossed through the air, ales gulped, mugs slammed down on the table. 

“Did you see her eyes?” Kili whispers, glancing towards their hostess who runs her hands over the empty shelves of her pantry with a dejected look.

“Aye, we did,” Balin says. “Tis not the first time I’ve seen a blind person. And it will most likely not be the last for any of us.” His tones firm as he looks over the table and ending the conversation. Their hostess is silent until after the dinners over. Running her hand over an empty table, she frantically taps her way towards the kitchen. 

“Looking for one of those holey thingies?” Fili asks. “I think I saw Nori with one of them,” Bella looks panicked as she practically sprints towards the kitchen. “He was using it as a napkin!” He adds helpfully. Bella yanks the said holey thingy from his hand, lifting her walking stick and jabbing him in the back of his leg. Nori lets out an indignant squawk, glaring at the small woman. 

“That is a doily! Not a dishcloth!” She cries. Nori rolls his eyes, rubbing at the back of his leg as he heads towards a roll of sausages. 

“But it’s full of holes.” Bofur points out. Bella’s cheeks flush with frustration as she stamps her foot.

“It’s supposed to be like that,” Bella holds up the item in question. “It’s crotched.” She explains as though she’s talking to a small child. Bofur grins widely. 

“Oh, a wonderful game it is too. If you got the balls for it.” Bella’s cheeks flush deeply as she turns away, shoulders stiff. 

“My dear Bella,” Gandalf asks worriedly as he stares down at her. “What on earth is the matter?”

“What’s the matter?” Bella repeats. “I'm surrounded by dwarves, what are they doing here?” She demands. 

“Oh, they're quite a merry gathering! Might as well try and get used to them.” Gandalf tries in vain to pacify her, ignoring her complaints as she follows him from the kitchen. 

“I don’t want to get to get used to them,” Bella snaps. “They pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going to tell you what they've done to the bathroom; they all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand, what are they doing in my house?” She sighs, planting her hands on her hips. 

“Excuse me,” Ori says, her voice soft, timid. “I’m sorry to interrupt. But what should I do with my plate?” Fili steps past them, a smirk on his face as he takes the plate. 

“Here you go Ori, give it to me.” Fili wordlessly throws the plate through the air. Bella lets out a squeal of dismay, looking around. 

“What are you doing to my dishes?” She asks and just like she did with Nori, gives Fili a firm whack in the knees. Fili hisses through clenched teeth as he catches another dish and throws it. 

“Just cleaning them Miss Baggins!” He promises. From the table comes the sound of clinking and Bella swirls around in a circle, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Can you not do that?” She cries, a distressed look on her face. “You’ll blunt them!” Bofur grins at he looks around the table, winking at his companions. 

“Oh, did you hear that lads? She says we’ll blunt the knives!” There’s a collective laugh as the dwarves begin to sing. 

“Blunt the knives and bend the forks!  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!  
Chip the glasses and crack the plates!  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates  
Cut the cloth and trail the fat!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Splash the wine on every door!  
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;  
Pound them up with a thumping pole;  
And when you've finished, if they are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!” 

The dwarves finish, laughing as all the dishes come to rest on the table. Dori’s laughter stops in her throat though when the hobbit comes into the room. She stops in front of the table and with a hesitant hand, reaches out and traces the edge of one of her plates. Checking for breaks, Dori realizes. Bifur’s eyes are dark as they meet hers and the both of them look away as the hobbit slowly steps back from the table. The joyful mood of the others is cut quickly as three loud knocks cut through the air. Everyone stands silent as Gandalf speaks in an ominous tone.

“He is here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I need some opinions. Should the rest of the company know that Dori and Ori are dwarrodams or not? Also I hope that everyone's having a good weekend :3 I've gotten a ridiculous amount of writing done.


	4. Making Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When were you going to announce that you had awoken?” Gandalf asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
> 
> “Whenever the Baggins side of me won over my Took side,” Bella says and a small smile splits across her features. “Now where is this contract?” Ori’s own face splits apart with a smile as she follows after the wizard to announce the news to the others. Dori’s left alone with the hobbit who sits on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I would like to address something said on one of my other works on here, Bathhouse Revelations. It was from an anonymous commenter. And all it said was: Homophobe. This has been reported. It had already been a horrific day and that comment was like a slap in the face to me. I was taken back by it. I read back over the work several times and could find nothing that was homophobic or bashing. So this what I have to say to that commenter: To the person who called me a homophobe last night: how dare you. I hope for whatever reason you felt so insecure and decided to call me such an ugly thing, I certainly hope you feel proud of yourself. You don't know me. You did not see me having to nearly be restrained when someone would use slang terms or gay as an insult. I would sooner ask to never speak again than use the words: faggot or dyke or queer. Because they're ugly words. The accepted word is gay. Lesbian. And you know what, I will be the first to admit in public, I am the quietest, shyest person by myself. But if I hear you use those words, see you insult someone, even if they aren't there. Especially if they aren't there. I can guarantee it that I'll be the first person up there, defending them. How dare you. Do I have homophobic characters? Yes. Just realize each thing I write doesn't automatically make me like each character I make or write about. I'm trying to make it seem like a whole world and allowing the characters the ability to grow or not in the situations they are.

Bella was not sure she could handle another dwarf in her house. Her poor pantry was now complete empty of food, her empty stomach rumbled and the bathroom. Well that was one occasion Bella had cursed her heightened sense of smell. The dwarves that had been boisterous and obnoxious, moments before are all silent now as the door opens.

“Gandalf,” This new voice is rich and has an air of importance as heavy boots step hit the wooden floor. “I thought you said this place would be easy to find. I lost my way twice. I wouldn’t have found it at all had it not been for that mark on the door.”

“Mark?” Bella cries. “There’s no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!” Gandalf’s voice is calm as he closes the door and wraps an arm around her shoulder.

“There is a mark, I put it there myself,” Gandalf says, turning Bella towards the source of the voice. “Bella Baggins, allow me to introduce you to the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield.” The rooms filled with silence. There are no heavy boots tromping around, no talking or laughing. There’s nothing but the uncomfortable feeling of someone staring hard at her, their eyes practically burning a hole into her.

“Gandalf,” The rich voice, Thorin speaks again. But this time is voice is strained with barely contained fury. “You did not tell me that our burglar was a woman—let alone a blind woman! Tell me Miss Baggins, have you done much fighting?” Gandalf’s grip on Bella’s shoulder tightens by just a hair as a low, guttural speech comes from behind them.

“Quite right you are Bifur,” Gandalf agrees and Bella can practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Come sit down Thorin and we will discuss.” Thorin snorts and sneers at Bella whose grip tightens on her walking stick.

“She looks more like a grocer than a burglar.” Thorin remarks as he moves towards the dining room. Bella takes a long breath, gritting her teeth as she pats Gandalf’s hand.

“What did he say?” Bella whispers as he begins leading her towards the dining room. Gandalf hums noncommittally and once more, the light hearted, happy tones in his voice.

“Oh, my dear girl,” Gandalf chuckles heartily. “I believe you’ve already made some friends.” Gandalf sits down, leaving Bella at his side as the dwarves begin talking.

“What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?” Balin asks. “Will they come?” His tone is hopeful.

“Aye, envoys from all seven kingdoms.” Thorin’s own tone is indifferent. Around Bella comes the hopeful mumbles of the dwarves.

“And what did the dwarves of Iron Hills say? Are they with us?” There is the gruff voice of Dwalin. Bella ignores his voice, listening for that low, guttural voice from earlier. She can’t find it and is disappointed.

“They say this is our quest and ours alone.” Thorin says over the disappointed grumbles and Bella perks up, leaning around Gandalf.

“You’re going on a quest?” She asks. Gandalf nods and from deep within his robes, pulls out a map, spreading it across the table.

“Far to the East over ranges and rivers, beyond woodlands and wastelands, lies a single solitary peak,” Gandalf reads and takes Bella’s hand, guiding them over the letters that rest on the map.

“The Lonely Mountain…” Bella mutters and a new voice interjects.

“Aye, Óin has read the portents and the portents say it's time.” The voice declares and is met with mumbles and sighs.

“Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain as it was foretold: When the birds of Old return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end.” Bella’s head snaps up like a puppet whose strings have been jerked.

“What beast?” Bella asks and is silently thankful her voice doesn’t squeak.

“Well that would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible: chiefest and greatest calamity of our age,” Bofur says, his tone like he was telling a bedtime story to fauntlings. “Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors. Claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals.”

“Yes, yes I know what a dragon is.” Bella mumbles as a chair scrapes loudly across the floor. The shy voice from earlier, Ori is now suddenly dominating the room though fear is clear.

“I'm not afraid, I'm up for it! I'll give him a taste of dwarvish iron right up his jacksy!” Ori declares just to be silenced by Dori.

“The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us,” Balin interjects over the loud chatter. “But we number just thirteen. And not thirteen of the best….Nor brightest.” All of them began to argue at once now, angry words flying across the table.

“We may be few in number but we're fighters! All of us! To the last dwarf!” Fili shouts, silencing the others.

“And you forget we have a wizard in our company!” Kili reminds them, looking at Gandalf expectantly. “Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time!”

“Oh, well, no. I—uh…” Gandalf stutters and for the first time that night, Bella smirks at, resisting the urge to clap a hand over her mouth as a giggle works its way up her throat.

“How many then?” Dori asks.

“What?”

“Well how many dragons have you killed?” Gandalf begins to choke on his pipe smoke as the demands keep coming.

“Go on, give us a number!” They beg, their voices rising to a roar once more. It's Thorin who stops the arguing; standing and pounding his fist on the table with a shout.

Slowly, everyone sinks back into their seats, looks of shame etched into their features.

“If we have read these signs do you not think others will have read them too?" He asks. “Rumors have begun to spread. The dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the mountain, assessing, wondering, and weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?” The others shout in approval; excitement clear in their voices until Balin speaks again.

“You forget that the front gate is sealed,” He reminds them softly. “There is no other way into the mountain.”

“That my dear Balin is not entirely true,” Gandalf interjects and from deep within his robes, once more pulls out a key, gleaming in the light.

“How come you by this?” Thorin whispers, his eyes wide with awe.

 “It was given to by your father Thráin for safe keeping,” He answers simply. “It is yours now.” He hands it over to Thorin who takes it like it's a newborn baby; still staring in awe.

“If there is a key, there must be a door!” Fili exclaims. Gandalf points to the map, nodding.

“These runes speak of a hidden passage to the lower halls.”

“There's another way in.” Kili says almost breathlessly, grinning.

“Well if we can find it," Gandalf interjects. “But dwarf doors are invisible when closed. The answer lies somewhere hidden in this map and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage. But if we careful and clever, I believe it can be done.”

“That's why we need a burglar!” Ori exclaims.

“And a good one too,” Bella muses from her spot by Gandalf. “An expert I’d imagine.”

"And are you?" Glóin demands.

“Am I what?” Bella asks just to be met by the loud, raucous laughter of one of the dwarves.

“He said she’s an expert!” Óin declares and points towards Gandalf.

“Me?” Bella practically squeals. “Oh, no, no, no, no. I—I'm not a burglar! I've never stolen a thing in my life.”

“I’m afraid I have to agree with Miss Baggins,” Balin mutters. “She’s hardly burglar material.”

“Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves.” Dwalin cuts in and once more the dwarves begin arguing, this time about her.

“Enough!” Gandalf shouts in a deep, booming voice that fills the room. He towers above the others, covering the room with shadows. “If I say Bella Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar she is!” As quickly as it happens, Gandalf calms down and his voice is its gentle tone once more. “Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact they can pass unseen by most if they choose. Bella’s lack of sight has only heightened her other senses. She’s a remarkable sense of hearing, smell and touch. And while the dragon is accustomed to the smell of a dwarf, the scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, giving us a distinct advantage,” He gives Thorin a long look. “You asked me to find the fourteenth member of our company and I have chosen Ms. Baggins,” Gandalf reminds him firmly. “There's a lot more to her than appearances suggest. And she’s got a great more deal to offer than any of you know, including herself,” Thorin’s silent, a bitter look on his face as he glares at Gandalf. “You must trust me on this.” The wizard says firmly.

“Very well,” Thorin finally says sulkily. “We’ll do it your way. Give her the contract.”  Thorin doesn’t even glance over his shoulder as he shoves the contract at Bella, his eyes narrowed.

“It’s just the usual,” Balin says as Bella begins unfolding the contract. “Pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements and so forth.”

“Funeral arrangements?” Bella croaks and awkwardly traces her fingers over the beginnings of the contract. It was ridiculously long and would take even longer to read she realizes with an internal groan. From her side comes a timid throat clearing.

“Can I—I mean would you like for me to read it Miss Baggins?” Ori’s timid voice asks and Bella smiles as she nods.

“I would appreciate it Ori.” Bella says as the dwarf settles by her side. The dwarves are silent in the dining room as Ori reads, Bella silently listening

“The present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted or sustained as a consequence, thereof, including but not limited to…” Ori pauses as she further unfolds the contract. Lacerations, evisceration.” Bella pales visibly. “Incineration.”

“Incineration?” Bella chokes.

“Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh right off your bones in the blink of an eye.” Bofur says as though Smaug was nothing more than one of Gandalf's fireworks.

“You all right lassie?” Balin asks concerned as Bella begins swaying slightly.

“Yes, I'm fine.” She mutters, taking a deep breath. “I just feel a bit faint.” Bofur stands, leaning through the doorway.

“Think furnace with wings!” Bofur grins

“I…I need air.” Bella gasps.

“Flash of light, searing pain and then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!” Bella straightens for a moment, taking a long breath.

“Nope.” Bella says calmly as she collapses into a heap on the floor.

“Oh, very helpful Bofur.” Gandalf comment as he goes to collect the hobbit from the floor, Dori following after him.

* * *

 

Dori could have cuffed that miner over the back of his head. Making the small creature faint like that, honestly! Ori had stood over the unconscious hobbit, fussing and looking anxiously at everyone else until Dori had scooped her up and followed the wizard to the hobbit’s room.

“Lay her down on her bed,” Gandalf instructs with a sigh. “I made a promise long ago that Miss Bella Baggins would have an adventure. And an adventure she will have.” The wizard says, his eyebrows furrowing as he stared at Bella.

“Made a promise?” Ori pipes up. She stands by the hobbit’s bedside, looking anxiously at her pale coloring. “Who did you make a promise to Gandalf?” A sad, distant look comes into the wizard’s eyes as he stares too at Bella.

“I made a promise to her mother, Belladonna Took Baggins,” The wizard chuckles affectionately and shakes his head. “She was quite the adventurous woman and the last time I saw her, I made her a promise that Bella would have an adventure just as she did.”

“Didn’t her mother ever take her on one?” Ori asks. “Are hobbits like dwarves and don’t like their women to travel for safety?”

“Women are not a rarity among hobbits; they can travel if they wish to. Belladonna Took was one of those women. She could have taken Bella on one but there are fewer things stronger than maternal instinct. And she feared that she would have just stood in the way of what Bella could have done.” Dori could understand that from her experience with raising Nori and Ori. She’d nearly put her foot down and said absolutely not on this quest unless she was allowed to go and she was practically their mother half the time.

“You’ll allow her to go then?” Dori asks as the hobbit’s eyelids flutter.

“I will not force her,” Gandalf says as his eyes flicker towards Bella. “But that does not mean I will not try and encourage her.”

“Now Gandalf,” Bella says slowly as she carefully sits up, accepting his hand. “You said that you made my mother a promise. And Baggins always keep their promises.” Gandalf huffs but smiles down at the hobbit as he shakes his head.

“When were you going to announce that you had awoken?” Gandalf asks, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Whenever the Baggins side of me won over my Took side,” Bella says and a small smile splits across her features. “Now where is this contract?” Ori’s own face splits apart with a smile as she follows after the wizard to announce the news to the others. Dori’s left alone with the hobbit who sits on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap.

“I’m not very good with names yet,” Bella mumbles from her spot. “When I’m around you a bit longer and connect voices with names—smells—I’ll be better. So I apologize but I don’t know who’s in my room.” She confesses and chuckles as her cheeks flush a light pink. When Dori doesn’t answer right away, she looks around the room, her eyes a little anxious. “If you were the one who didn’t speak Westron earlier, thank you for whatever it was you said.” Dori chuckles lightly and shakes her head.

“No Miss Baggins,” Dori says and sits next to the hobbit. “That was Mister Bifur, I’m Dori.”

“Oh, well that explains why you sound like Ori,” Bella says and the blush spreads. “Could you tell me what it was exactly that Mister Bifur said earlier?”  

“He said you had given a couple vicious whacks to the legs with your walking stick tonight. If you ask me, they were well deserved.” Dori says and the hobbit laughs hard enough to make her snort.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after getting that out of my system....I'm looking for a beta.


	5. Lack of Tact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s dangerous enough for you two to be on this quest,” Nori whispers, his eyes narrowed. “We can’t have her finding out the truth.” 
> 
> “I don’t think she’s going to go find out,” Dori snaps. “She can’t even see.” 
> 
> “You’re right,” Dori stiffens as she turns around. Bella stands in the doorway, gripping her walking stick tightly. “I can’t see so whatever it is you’re worried I’m going to find don’t worry. After all as Dori said, I can’t see.”

Dori wakes up the next morning to the sizzling of bacon and soft spoken voices coming from the kitchen. She takes a moment to make sure both Nori and Ori are still in the room and they are, sound asleep in their own beds. She combs out her hair and quickly sets her braids in order before she steps out of her room. From the other guest rooms come the snores of her companions. But there’s one set missing and Dori finds them in the kitchen. Bofur and Bifur sit at the table, nursing cups of coffee and watching Bombur and Bella at the stove. 

“So your mother taught you how to cook then?” Bombur asks as Bella blots a plate of bacon. 

“Yes she did,” Bella smiles. “It’s a good thing my father had so much patience. I can’t count the amount of times that I burned things, nearly set fire to this house or cut off fingers.” Bella chuckles and shakes her head. “I can sort of bake—my gardener looks at the bottom of pies and tells me if they’re finished or not. But I haven’t quite gotten a perfect one yet.” Bofur places his hand over his heart, sighing deeply as he looks at Bella’s back. 

“Oh, Miss Bella if you make pie like you cook bacon than I dare say your cooking’s better than my brother’s.” A petal pink blush spreads across Bella’s cheeks and she ducks her head. It’s really a lovely color on her and Dori takes the chance to admire the hobbit as she cooks beside Bombur. She didn’t have the firm, square shaped body of a dwarrowdam but was more soft and plump. She’s more curves than muscle. Bella sighs as a fork clatters to the floor and she bends to get it. Dori’s mouth goes dry as she gazes at the hobbit. Bella’s backside is as round and plump as the rest of her, her trousers stretching across her skin. When the hobbit straightens back up she looks away, her cheeks heating with shame. Mahal help her! She’d just ogled their hostess’s backside! Dori turns away and silently curses when she comes face to face with Ori. Ori stands with her mouth slightly agape and wide eyes. Dori does her best to muster up a glare at her but fails when Ori smirks at her and puts a hand over her mouth in a poor attempt to conceal a giggle. 

“Hush,” Dori hisses. “It’s not funny.” Ori snorts and settles for leading Dori to a seat at the table with a whispered agreement to not tell Nori what she saw. Breakfast is nowhere near as boisterous as last night. The dwarves nurse cups of coffee, milk, tea and in some cases do their best to quickly ward off their hangovers as they wolf down their food. Bella is not as frustrated as last night it seems but more subdued Dori notices. She sits by Ori, eating without a word of conversation passing between her and another member of the company. Dori finds her a silence a bit unsettling and wonders if she’s changed her mind about going. 

“Have you changed your mind?” Dori asks leaning around Ori to look at the hobbit. Bella shakes her head, a smile ghosting on her lips. 

“I’m afraid not,” Bella smirks. “Much as your leader would like me to I am a part of this quest now,” She stands with her walking stick in hand as she holds her arm out to Ori. “Guide me to the ponies Ori?” Ori looks more than willing to do that and goes to take Bella’s arm. Nori stops her though, giving her a gentle shove aside. 

“Have someone else guide you,” Nori growls and glowers at Bella. “Ori can’t help you.” Nori grabs hold of Ori turning and pulling her from the room. He pauses in the doorway, looking back at Bella and narrowing his eyes. “Neither can Dori.” Dori sends him a seething glare and a heavy awkwardness settles over the room as all eyes turn towards Dori to see what she does. Bofur clears his throat and scrapes his chair back, broad smile in place as he takes Bella’s hand in his. 

“I’ll take you,” Bofur promises and leads Bella out of the room. Dori doesn’t hear Bella’s response as she scrapes her chair back, stomping after her siblings. She grabs Nori’s shoulder and pulls him into a corner of the living room. 

“Would you mind telling me just what exactly Ori is so busy doing that she can’t guide Bella?” Dori hisses. 

“It’s dangerous enough for you two to be on this quest,” Nori whispers, his eyes narrowed. “We can’t have her finding out the truth.” 

“I don’t think she’s going to go find out,” Dori snaps. “She can’t even see.” 

“You’re right,” Dori stiffens as she turns around. Bella stands in the doorway, gripping her walking stick tightly. “I can’t see so whatever it is you’re worried I’m going to find don’t worry. After all as Dori said, I can’t see.” Bella moves past them and grabs something from a tabletop, her shoulders rigid as she turns and walks back out. Guilt blooms in Dori’s chest and only sharpens when Bella slams into an end table. 

Bella doesn’t speak much during their ride and Dori feels even worse. She sits stiffly on her pony, Myrtle. Her walking sticks tied across the back of the saddle and she grips the reins tightly. Bofur rides beside her though he doesn’t talk, simply glancing at her occasionally to make sure she’s still on the saddle and is doing okay. Eventually Bifur rides up and takes Bella’s other side. Ori keeps casting glances at Dori and Nori, worrying her lower lip. 

“What happened?” Ori eventually whispers. Nori keeps his gaze forward; the only sign that he’s heard her is a slight twitch in his jaw. 

“Nori lacking tact is all that happened,” Dori says wryly. “And me making a muck of things…” Ori gives her a worried look but says no more herself and is silent as they ride on. Dori doesn’t hear one word from Bella all day on their ride. When they stop that night in Bree she let outs a huff as she slides off the saddle, patting Myrtle on the neck. 

“Well aside from the saddle sores I can’t say that was all too bad,” Bella sighs and the pony snorts. She chuckles and reaches for her walking stick, shrugging. “We’ll learn.” She promises and moves to untie her walking stick. Bofur comes to join her, sighing as he pops his back. 

“Ye didn’t do too poorly,” Bofur promises Bella and winks at her. “Except for that moment when you nearly threw yourself over Myrtle’s back.” Bella blushes and slaps at Bofur’s chest. 

“You promised we wouldn’t talk about that!” Bella cries though she smiles. Fili joins Bofur, slinging an arm around Bella. 

“Now what’s this about nearly throwing yourself over Myrtle’s back?” Fili asks. Bella doesn’t appear to have heard him as she gazes past them, her eyes darkening. She stares towards a hobbit man who stands with another hobbit woman. He doesn’t seem to notice Bella at first, laughing at something the hobbit woman says. When he notices Bella he pales and looks away, clearing his throat. 

“Hello Rogo,” Bella says and the man pales even more. “You seem to be doing well.” 

“Indeed I am,” The man, Rogo mumbles. “You seem to be doing well too.” 

“How do you know if you won’t look at me?” Bella asks and without waiting for a response finishes untying her walking stick and turns away, taking Bofur’s arm and moving towards the inn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh no, until next time my dear readers :3


	6. Toads and Pigs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rogo and I courted.”
> 
> “Courted?” Bofur says. “So not anymore then?”
> 
> “No, not anymore,” Bella mumbles and a small hush falls over their section of the table. “He said that he couldn’t look at me.”

Bella’s silently cursing as they step inside the inn. Of all the hobbits they could have run into it had to be Rogo. She probably wouldn’t have noticed did his blasted voice not carry. Their encounter had left a sour taste in her mouth and she hoped none of the dwarves asked about him. She currently hangs onto Bofur’s arm and keeps sending fleeting glances over her shoulder. As loud as the inn is she can’t hear Rogo’s voice and hopes that he doesn’t come in. Her hope that none of the dwarves will ask about Rogo proves to be useless as they sit down.

“Say Ms. Boggins,” Kili says carefully. “Who was that hobbit out there? Rogo was that his name?”

“How is it you can get his name right but not my name?” Bella asks with a small amount of humor coloring her tone. “Rogo and I courted.”

“Courted?” Bofur says. “So not anymore then?”

“No, not anymore,” Bella mumbles and a small hush falls over their section of the table. “He said that he couldn’t look at me.” She clears her throat uncomfortably as a hand comes to rest on her shoulder.

“Would you like to go ahead and rest for tonight my dear girl?” Gandalf asks quietly and Bella nods, standing and accepting his arm. Gandalf’s presence is calming, soothing compared to the presence of the overly loud dwarves and she enjoys his silence as he leads her up to her room.

“I don’t mean to be rude.” Bella says, feeling a little guilty as they come up to her room.

“I didn’t realize he would be here,” Gandalf sighs. “If you would just allow me to turn him into a toad…” Bella laughs and shakes her head as she steps inside the room.

“Thank you for the offer Gandalf but I believe a pig more appropriate,” Bella grins as Gandalf laughs and with a promise to bring up her supper is gone. As Bella turns around she realizes with a start that she’s forgotten her walking stick and sighs. The beds easy enough to find and thankfully is a hobbit sized bed. Bella lies down and closes her eyes with a sigh. 

* * *

 

_When Rogo came to her with intentions of courting Bella had been shocked. She couldn’t believe Rogo wanted to court her. Her! He’d approached her during a birthday party and asked her to dance. She’d attempted to warn him off saying that she had two left feet and would probably embarrass the both of them. Rogo would hear none of it though and made her come dance with him. She was captivated by him. His voice was a smooth, deep melodious sound that wrapped around her like a blanket and made her feel too hot and too cold all at once. But she noticed something strange during their dance. When Rogo spoke his voice was never quite directed at her. It was to the left or to the right, over her head, at her feet. But never was it directly at her._

_Bella was happy nonetheless and figured it was because of all the other hobbits at the party. There was simply too much noise and she was only imagining it. She went about her business as usual afterwards and thought nothing more of the party. Until Rogo came up to her in the market and asked if he could walk along with her.  And Bella accepted of course. And when Rogo’s voice was once more never quite directed at her she chalked it up to the amount of hobbits in the market. Rogo continued to meet with her in the market and together they would walk together until eventually he asked if he could carry home her groceries. And eventually he asked if he could walk to and from the market._

_Their courtship had been a tentative, proper one. Rogo walked her to the market and carried her groceries for her. Bella cooked for him on occasion and Rogo cooked for her sometimes. But she noticed they never touched or got close to it. She hadn’t been expecting them to tumble into bed together and be improper. Certainly not. But she hadn’t minded the thought of a couple kisses shared between pipes on summer evenings. Rogo never made any moves to kiss her though or even hold her hand. And Bella figured that he was simply very old fashioned and proper. She was content with holding his hand and never kicked up a fuss or complained about a thing in their courtship really. Until the night came when they’d been courting for nearly a year and Rogo still had never talked directly to her. They’d been in Bag End and preparing to sit down to dinner together and Rogo had been speaking about his day. But he was talking to the table and not to Bella._

_"Why won’t you look at me?” Bella asked and Rogo went silent. “I know you aren’t looking at me.”_

_“I am now,” Rogo insisted. Her back was turned to him at that moment._

_"You’re looking at my back,” Bella said and turned around to fully face him. Rogo inhaled sharply and Bella froze. “What is it?”_

_“I should be truthful with you,” Rogo said carefully and Bella felt her skin prickling as he spoke. “Bella—they scare me. I can’t bring myself to look at you.”_

_"You can’t bring yourself to look at me?” Bella croaked and winced at how whiny she sounded. “Try it for just five seconds.”_

_“I can’t,” Rogo insisted and his voice edged with irritation. “I look at your eyes and they don’t focus. They roll around and there’s a constant fog over them.”_

_“So you have looked at them then,” Bella mused and Rogo sighed. “You looked at them before and now you can’t anymore.”_

_"No I can’t anymore,” Rogo agreed. “I tried once a long time ago and they disturbed me so greatly—Bella I cannot look at you.” He stood up and Bella listened at his footsteps faded down the hallway and out of Bag End. She sat at the table with her eyes closed and let dinner go cold that night._

* * *

 

Bofur looks around the table and tugs on the ends of his mustache as Gandalf rejoins them.

“Is our burglar okay?” Bofur asks, staring worriedly towards the stairs. “She seemed upset by that hobbit.”

“She’s retired early for tonight,” Gandalf smiles though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “I wish she would allow me to just turn him into a toad for a while. Though she said she believes a pig would be more appropriate. Excuse me I must go see Thorin for a moment.” He casts a long look towards Bella’s walking stick and winks before standing and moving towards the king. Bofur shares a look with Bifur and the two nods, grabbing hold of Bella’s walking stick and striding out of the inn. Ori bites her lower lip and looks worriedly at her siblings. Both of them are distracted so after a moment’s hesitation she follows after Bofur and Bifur.

“What are you going to do?” Ori asks as she follows after them.

“Well Bella says she thinks a pig more appropriate,” Bofur mutters and grins as he nods towards Rogo who kneels against the pig pen drinking. “So let’s give our burglar what she wants.” He hands over the walking stick to Bifur and walks over to Rogo, slinging an arm around his shoulder.

“Seems our little friend Bella Baggins knows you,” Bofur says jovially with a smile in place. “Tell me; tell me how do you know her?” Rogo squirms a bit uncomfortably under Bofur’s arm and clears his throat.

“I’m sorry but I don’t believe we’ve met.” He mutters and casts his eyes towards Bifur and Ori.  

“Why yes we did,” Bofur nods. “We met earlier—ye just didn’t catch my name. I’m Bofur. That there’s my cousin Bifur and that’s Ori. Now tell us now how do you know Bella?”

“Oh well we courted some time ago,” Rogo mumbles. “But we went our separate ways.”

“Now that’s a shame,” Bofur says and frowns. “Why did you do that if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Her eyes—well they bothered me you see,” Rogo shuffles uncomfortably as Bofur’s grip tightens around his shoulder. “And I was unable to get past them…” He wiggles out from Bofur’s arm. Ori slips behind him and crouches down on her hands and knees.

“Unable to get past them?” Bofur’s tone edges with barely concealed anger. “Now that’s a rather poor reason to not love someone. Especially someone who can cook like Bella, put up with a houseful of dwarves and tolerates an asshole like you.” Bofur snaps and gives him a shove. Rogo stumbles back and flails as he nearly topples over Ori. Bifur steps up and with a solid hit to his stomach Rogo is knocked back into the pig pen with a groan.

“Much better,” Bofur grins and tugs Ori up. “I do agree with Bella—a pig suits him better than a toad.” The three dwarves turn and move back towards the inn, all wearing identical grins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm doing some volunteering for extra credit tomorrow and probably won't get much updates in. So I wanted to do some before school today. This time change has fucked up my sleep schedule so badly too so I've been lacking sleep while I write these


	7. Meddling Wizards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so, so sorry that it took me over a month to update this story! A combination of writer's block, health problems, school and emotional problems took their toll on me. But I'm back

The next few days pass with relative silence from the hobbit. Dori’s reduced to staring at Bella’s back and hoping that she’ll somehow feel it and talk to her. But Bella doesn’t talk to her and avoids her in general. During the days she rides alongside Gandalf or the Ur family, talking with them. At nights she’s sandwiched between both Bifur and Bofur who talk to her about their carvings, her home and her life in the Shire. Dori sits with her brother and sister, knitting and throwing the occasional glance towards Bella. About a week into travelling, when Nori’s off gathering firewood Ori settles next to her; her gaze flickering between her and Bella. 

“What did Nori say to make her so mad at you?” Ori whispers. 

“He said that it’s dangerous for us to be on this quest which it is. This quest is practically a suicide mission but I said something rude. Nori told me that we couldn’t risk her finding her out and it was out of frustration at him but Bella heard me. I said that I didn’t believe she would find out because she couldn’t even see.” 

“Bella sees a lot more than you believe.” Gandalf says, coming and settling down next to them. He puffs on his pipe, a thoughtful gaze on his face as he stares at their burglar. Bifur’s set a half completed carving in Bella’s hand. Her brow is furrowed as she runs her fingers over the contours. There’s a moment of hesitation as she worries her lower lip before she holds the carving out. 

“A dog?” Bella asks and earns a gruff bark of laughter from Bifur who nods, signing furiously. Bofur watches the transaction with a smile on his face as he translates for Bella. 

“She sees but she sees differently than you or me. Bella sees when she touches something and traces it with her hands. Her ears allow her to recognize voices and different pitches; in fact that sense has heightened because of her blindness.” Gandalf smiles at the burglar who lifts her head at the sound of her name. 

“Are you gossiping about me over there Gandalf? You would fit right in with the hobbit ladies of the Shire.” Bella calls. 

“Do hobbits gossip a lot then?” Ori asks. 

“Oh yes, I swear some of them consider it a craft.” Bella’s smile is strained as she turns back towards Bifur. 

“Hobbits are quick to forgive Dori. Hobbits also have a love for everything that grows so if you could perhaps find some flowers—I’m sure she’d greatly appreciate it.” Dori stares up at the wizard, speechless as he strokes his beard. “I believe hyacinths mean forgiveness if I’m not mistaken.” Gandalf winks at her, standing and moving off. 

“You should try it.” Ori whispers. Dori stares across the fire at Bella who leans heavily against Bofur, her eyes half lidded. The fire casts a warm yellowish glow across her face, her milky eyes relaxed. She takes a deep breath, standing up and brushing her hands off. 

“Bofur, I request your assistance. Would you come with me?” The piebald dwarf nods, setting his carving aside as he stands and follows her into the surrounding forest. 

“What do you need help with?” Bofur’s all smiles as he asks. 

“I want to apologize to Bella.” At this Bofur pauses and stares at her with a scrutinizing gaze. 

“Bifur knows more about flowers and such than I do. And I know that he’s shown a few to you and Bombur before. So could you help me try and find some hyacinths?” Bifur nods, motioning for Dori to follow him deeper into the forest. He leads her along, stopping when they come to some deep purple flowers. 

“Dori,” Bofur says as she looks over them. “If Nori says a word to her again or a harsh word against Bella, I will send him flying across camp.” 

“It won’t happen again.” Dori promises quietly, standing back up with the flowers in hand. 

When they return to camp Dori tries to ignore the sudden stilled conversation. Bofur doesn’t bat an eye as he rejoins Bifur and Bella, slinging an arm around her shoulder. Even Bombur slows down his stirring from where he stands at the pot, his green eyes wide. Ori struggles to hide her smile behind one of her mitten clad hands, sharing knowing looks with the wizard as Dori stops in front of Bella. 

“I want to apologize to you for the words I said in Bag End. They were out of frustration at my brother and it was taken out on you. For that I am sorry Miss Bella.” Dori says quietly, extending the hyacinth out to her. Bella’s slow to lift her hand, a blush spreading towards the tips of her pointed ears. As she takes the flower their fingers brush and Dori nearly sighs at the soft, smooth feeling of her skin. 

“Well thank you Master Dori.” Bella gives Dori a hesitant smile as she lifts the flower to her nose. When she inhales she pauses, her eyes going wide as the blush deepens. “Thank you.” Bella repeats. The camp is silent as Dori straightens up. She resits the urge to give them all a glare as a blush spreads across her cheeks. Bofur’s the one to break the silence, looking towards Bombur and grinning. 

“Come on Bombur. Isn’t the soup almost ready?” Bombur starts and the rest of the camp slowly settles back into talking. Dori takes a seat next to Gandalf, giving him a grateful look as she catches Bella running her fingers over the petals. 

“I appreciate it Mister Gandalf.” The wizard smiles at her, inclining his head ever so slightly as he lifts his pipe to his mouth. The two sit together in companionable silence, Dori’s gaze wandering towards Bella. She tries to ignore Ori’s small giggles that keep escaping her mouth each time she catches Dori staring. When the princes wander towards her and Gandalf holding bowls of soup and wearing twin smirks Dori knows that nothing good can come of this. 

“So Mister Dori,” Kili says casually as he and his brother sit down. “Do you plan on courting our hobbit?” 

“Yes, what was that flower all about?” Fili demands. 

“I will turn you both into toads if you don’t move along.” Gandalf warns, raising an eyebrow as the boys linger. When they see the seriousness in his gaze the two go scurrying, soup sloshing over the edges of their bowls. 

“Thank you Mister Gandalf.” 

“Oh, it’s not a problem Dori. I will make myself available any time you have questions about hobbits or Bella. Do you recall how I said earlier that her blindness has heightened her sense of hearing?” Dori nods and Gandalf’s smile widens beneath his beard. “Well that’s not the only sense that’s been heightened.” Gandalf winks at her, standing and moving off towards Bombur with his empty bowl. Dori’s left with bright red cheeks, stuttering as she struggles to ignore the looks tossed her way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can never resit when it comes to making Gandalf meddle you guys...


	8. Soup and Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s being around the Ur family that makes her shoulders slump in relief as they settle around the fire, the saddle sores ache a little bit less as she dismounts from her pony and the exhaustion a little bit less. But tonight there’s no Ur family surrounding her at the fire. Bofur and Fili are off collecting firewood, Bifur in a conversation with Óin and Bombur, Bella’s unsure. But she’s alone, her cane resting across her lap like a shield as activity goes on around her.

There’s something comforting about being around the Ur family. With Bifur, there’s the quiet presence along with that knowledge that he’s there. He’ll come up beside her and slip an arm around her shoulder, his grip gentle but firm as he guides her over to their spot for the night. While they sit together he carves, the sound of his knife on the wood. Often he’ll take her hand and slip whatever carving he’s working on that night into her hand for her to trace the contours of. His eagerness seems to roll off him in waves as Bella’s fingers run over the edges in an attempt to tell what it is. On the times she gets it right Bifur crows excitedly and Bella feels him shift to tell whoever’s next to them that she’s just gotten it right. 

Bofur reminded her of her mother with his easy humor and cheerful disposition. He often helped her onto her pony in the mornings and would tell her stories and jokes as they travelled. It was during one of those days they talked about her mother. 

“You remind me of my mother.” Bella said after Bofur confessed about being on the quest because of the free beer. 

“Did she like free beer?” Bofur asked and she could hear the smile in his voice. 

“No Took would ever turn down a drink when offered to them. But she was like you in the sense that she always seemed to be smiling. Any time I did something right or accomplished something she would be smiling. Her laughter was the best sound you’d ever heard Bofur. No bird songs compared to it.” Bofur was silent after her confession and she worried for a moment that perhaps the miner was upset. What dwarf wouldn’t be upset being compared to some little hobbit lady after all? And a deceased one at that! Bella felt like a fool and reached out to make amends only to be stopped by Bofur who grabbed her hand.

“I’m glad to know ye think so highly of me.” Bofur’s voice was thick. Bella smiled and gave his hand a squeeze as they lowered their hands back to the reins of their ponies. 

As for Bombur, he reminded her of her father. Bombur was quieter than Bofur and Bifur. But in his quiet was the result of shyness and sometimes worry for his cousin and brother. In the mornings Bombur would put her bowl of soup by her bedroll, his meaty fist gentle on her shoulder as he roused her awake. And though he never said it Bella could tell that he sometimes snuck a little extra food into her bowl. Whenever they settled down at night, if Bifur hadn’t taken Bella away then Bombur would allow her to settle by him and help him with dinner. Her actions were less sure than Bombur’s, clumsy sometimes but Bombur’s quiet voice would guide her through peeling, cutting and on one rather awkward occasion skinning. Bombur had learned after Bella nearly fainted while attempting to teach her to skin a rabbit Kili had caught it was better to leave that up to him. 

It’s being around the Ur family that makes her shoulders slump in relief as they settle around the fire, the saddle sores ache a little bit less as she dismounts from her pony and the exhaustion a little bit less. But tonight there’s no Ur family surrounding her at the fire. Bofur and Fili are off collecting firewood, Bifur in a conversation with Óin and Bombur, Bella’s unsure. But she’s alone, her cane resting across her lap like a shield as activity goes on around her. 

Her bedrolls already been laid out, her pack dropped atop it in a rather unhobbity manner which she’s sure her Baggins relatives would scoff at. Thorin’s already assigned chores to the others and even though she wasn’t one of them she half expects him to call her a useless halfling at any point now. So perhaps that’s why she nearly jumps out of her skin when a heavily padded body settles down next to her, slinging a heavy arm around her shoulders. 

“Miss Boggins, I’ve wanted to know some things if that’s okay.” Kili’s eager voice is all too close to her ear for her liking and Bella does her best to squirm out from under the heavy weight of his arm. 

“What is it that you wanted to know?” Bella grumbles. 

“Well it’s just that….How do you plan to slip past a dragon if you can’t see?” There’s a lull in the conversation around them and Bella nearly curses eavesdropping dwarves. 

“I was not born completely blind. Whenever I was a child things were….Fuzzy, I could see things but they were blurred around the edges. And for them to come into my full sight I had to get extremely close to them. Whenever I was in the market with my parents I could tell where they were by the way they talked, walked.” 

“If we were at a crowded stall I could tell which hobbit was my mother by her scent. And as Gandalf said, my senses have been heightened by my blindness. I’ve not thought up a plan yet Kili but I intend to work on one before we get there.” 

“What senses have been heightened?” Kili demands and scoots closer against her. Bella resists her urge to slap him off as Gandalf begins to speak. 

“Well her sense of smell, hearing, touch, taste. Hobbits are closely connected with nature, Bella even more so. When it’s going to rain she smells it in the air, hears the rumble of thunder and I’m quite convinced that she can feel roots growing beneath the earth.” 

“The wizard exaggerates but I know you’re Kili because you can’t get my name right and you seem to enjoy pawing at me like an overeager puppy.” Kili doesn’t pull away at her touch but does scoot away ever so slightly, the weight of his arm thankfully lightening. 

“Can you have kids?” Kili asks and the camp falls silent as though someone’s dropped a blanket over them all. It’s an innocent enough question and there’s no spite or malice held in Kili’s voice as he asks it. But Bella still goes rigid beneath his arm. How many nights had she thought of the opportunity that she’d been robbed of? Right along with her sight, the possibility of a family had been stolen from her while she was still in the womb. Any chances of a courtship that wasn’t solely for the purpose of wealth. A courtship that would lead to a marriage with faunts under foot who she hoped would not be robbed of their sight. How many nights had she thought of that? 

“I’ve thought about it and it’s possible for me. But if any hobbit of the Shire was to court me it would be for my wealth. And I’m worried that if I had a child they would be robbed of their sight in the womb just like I was.” Kili practically knocks her over as he’s shoved off her, a deep rumble of a growl coming from above her.   
“Your mother raised you better than to ask questions like that. Make yourself useless and get some firewood. Go on now.” She hears Kili’s footsteps scuttle away and slowly the silence lifts from the camp. 

“Thank you Dwalin.” Bella’s voice is a whisper but she knows the dwarf hears it as his steps falter and he clears his throat gruffly. Bella sighs, rising and making her way over to her bedroll. The thoughts she’s kept at bay, thinking of that opportunity that she’d been robbed off are heavy on her mind now. But unlike Bag End it’s worse because others are around and it feels as though each and every one of them can read her mind. It reads clear all over her body she knows as she climbs into her bedroll with her shoulders slumped and her eyes half lidded. The scent of rain is heavy in the air and Bella burrows deeper, thoughts of a warm hearth and being cuddled to her husband while faunts run underfoot taunting her. 

Bifur settles down next to her after some time but he doesn’t offer to show her his latest carving nor does he talk. He only sits there, the sound of his knife on the wood the only sound that passes between them. Bella’s nearly asleep by the time dinners ready and footsteps begin to make their way towards her and Bifur. The scent of tea is stronger than the scent of rain. Mixed with lemon, jasmine and the soft, sweet scent of freesia Bella knows without a doubt it’s Dori. 

“Here you are Bella.” The offered item to her is not her usual wooden bowl and spoon but a small, steaming cup that Bella recognizes as chamomile. 

“It’ll help calm you down.” Dori sounds almost shy as he says this. Beside her comes the sound of Bifur grunting and then Dori clearing his throat as he straightens up, his footsteps hurrying away. 

“Thank you.” Bella’s whisper seems to carry across the camp as eyes look between her and Dori. Upon seeing the smile on Dori’s face Bifur scowls, scooting in front of Bella and effectively blocking her from the rest of the company’s view. But it still does not stop Dori from throwing glances over at them, even when Bofur and Bombur sandwich her on both sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone have comments/suggestions how they would like to see the other members of the company interact with Bella? I'd love to hear them all....And I'm sorry for the lack of action. Just been attempting to establish relationships and connections among the characters. We'll deal with the trolls in the next chapter and I also apologize for the unexpected feels in there. 
> 
> And Kili was not attempting to be offensive with his question but was more curious as to could she have kids and raise a family despite being blind.


	9. In Camp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I'm updating for the first time in nearly six fucking months...

Adventures Dori decides the next day are terribly nasty things. It starts when she wakes up to Bella stuffing her bedroll into her pack. The hobbit seems…Bouncier than normal. She walks on her tiptoes for a few steps then falls flat onto her feet only to return to walking on her tiptoes. From his spot against a tree Gandalf chuckles as he blows out a smoke ring.

“It seems that it’s going to rain this morning, our hobbit has been on edge since she woke up.” Gandalf explains as Bella lets out an aggravated sounding huff, dragging her toes through the dirt. Though she’s never been one for tall tales or stories, Dori still makes both Nori and Ori put their cloaks on with hoods up. And sure enough it does rain. It pours in fact, relentlessly all day long. The ponies trudge miserably through the mud, snorting their dismay. The only ones not looking miserable are Bella and the princes.

The hobbit walks through the mud, dragging her feet through the thick sludge with a grin that spreads across her face. At the puddles she stops and actually slides down into it, toes curling as she hops out of it, leading her pony behind her. Behind her, Fili and Kili trail, attempting to copy her movements. Their movements are not as graceful, most of them ending in muddy knees and hands grasping. After the third stumble Thorin growls and looks over his shoulder at them.

“Miss Baggins may I ask why this is necessary?” Bella actually grins at him as she jumps into yet another puddle.

“I feel the rain and the mud differently than you do; through my feet, my skin…The scent of it is stronger than what you may find. Doing this helps me in getting a better feel of the area.” Thorin scowls but says nothing more, letting his scowl linger on his nephews before he turns back. There is no more talk of mud puddles or rain that day. Dori rides along in silence, knitting stuffed away and clothing soaked. By the time that the sun comes out it’s nearing time for them to stop and everyone is sighing in relief though Bella has a small pout. It remains there until Thorin says they’ll be stopping for the night.

The wind changes direction and Bella’s pout changes to one of absolute disgust, mouth twisting as she lifts a hand. Letting go of her pony she walks forward, past Thorin and past the charred remains of a house. Behind her, Gandalf follows.

“Are they all right?” Ori whispers as Thorin continues to call out orders.

“Must be a hobbit thing—something Gandalf knows about, we best leave them to take care of it. Go on, help Bombur with dinner. And Nori stay away from everyone’s packs.” Nori rolls his eyes but does not move away from his pony. Dori dismounts from her own, sighing at her legs giving a small twinge of protest as Gandalf returns without Bella.

“I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley.” Immediately Thorin’s face darkens with a scowl and Dori sighs, turning away from the argument. She is not overly fond of elves herself. In her opinion they are a little too fussy, fussier than her. It does not help they have a ‘holier than thou’ air about them. But she could not see herself ~~pitching a fit~~ having an argument with a wizard over them. A wizard who is currently storming away with a thunderous scowl.

“Mister Gandalf? Is everything all right? Mister Gandalf…Oh, he’s gone.” Dori looks towards Balin and sighs. The white haired dwarf shrugs, looking suddenly very old.

 “Well it would seem that we’re down a wizard and a burglar. I’ve no idea where Miss Baggins has gone to. This quest is off to an excellent start if I do say so myself.” Balin says dryly.

“She had a very odd look on her face when we stopped. As if she was going to be ill.” Dori says then shrugs, looking towards the dense area where she disappeared to.

“Well let’s hope before the night is over we have our wizard and our burglar returned to us.” Dori chews on the inside of her cheek but says nothing more. Moving towards her pony she grabs her knitting and then Nori, dragging him towards a log. She will worry about the wizard later and the burglar second. Right now she has to keep Nori out of the other’s packs.

She is halfway through a scolding when Bofur runs up to her red cheeked and hat askew. He gives her the usual grin and holds his hands out expectantly.

“Could I please have some yarn? Don’t matter how much…Actually it does, give me as much as you can, all of it would be preferable.” Bofur’s smile is one part sheepish; one part worried as he thrusts his hands out at her.

“I’m scared to know why so I’ll ask you not tell me.” Dori says as she unravels some to wrap around his hands. Bofur shifts nervously as she does it, throwing glances over his shoulder until finally he pulls his hands away and with a hurried ‘thanks’ takes off into the dense growth. Beside her Nori’s eyes shift, chewing on the inside of his cheek as they follow after the hatted dwarf.

“I think he’s using it to hog tie that hobbit.” Dori slams her knitting down on her lap and smacks him upside the head. As her hand connects with his head there’s a loud roaring and then a resounding crash. A squeal, high pitched and whiny and yet another crash followed by a laugh. Everyone is on their feet now, grabbing weapons and running, sprinting towards the source of the sound. Shouts and yells are building up in their throats only to die, to bubble down into nothing at the sight before them.

A troll, a troll wearing an apron and carrying a fileting knife is holding Bella in its hand. Or rather she’s standing in the palm with her walking stick while Bofur dangles from its arm, legs kicking at the air. One of its eyes is a milky white, a blind eye.

“Really now there was no need for all that fuss. I’m sorry we had to do that but the ponies are ours.” Bella says it as if scolding a child. Behind the troll holding her are two others, lying on top of each other and whining. On the ground, wrapped between trees and a makeshift pen is Dori’s yarn.

“Sorry burrahobbit, we was hungry…Wanted something better than leathery old farmer. Didn’t know this area was already taken.” Bella coos, actually _coos_ and reaches out, patting the top of the troll’s head almost sympathetically.

“She’s like you Bert, only, only both of em!” One of the trolls cries, attempting in vain to sit up. Bella turning her head to look towards the sound is enough to make it stop. The one holding her, Bert lifts his arm and frowns at Bofur who continues to dangle.

“This one, one should I do with him? Is it yer mate or something?” The other troll pipes up.

“Can we eat him?”

“You are to do nothing with him but put him down.” And the troll does, flinging Bofur down rather roughly. “Perhaps I should I have said gently…” Bella mutters but then smiles.

“Now tell me, have you seen anything unusual here? Any nasty creatures occupying my land? Any orcs, wargs?” There is a hesitation on the troll’s face but then he nods and Bella grins.

“Yes, orcs and wargs. Can hear em howling at night and orcs shrieking.” Bella again pats the troll’s head.

“Now the sun is going to be coming up soon. You three are to get up, to walk out of here and find yourselves somewhere new to stay.” The troll lowers her down slowly, bringing its other hand around to actually help her step off. She nods her thank you and wraps a hand around one of its fingers, giving it a shake. The trolls are slow to stand up, slower even to straighten themselves out but they manage and then they turn and walk off; the ground rumbling beneath them.

“Well I don’t know about everyone else but I would like to eat.” Bella says and holds her arm out to Bofur who still lies on the ground. He remains unmoving, groaning into the ground.

“Believe it or not lass I can’t get up yet. If ye didn’t notice, I was dropped by a troll!” Bofur lets out a groan.

“I don’t know how I could have noticed without being able to see, ah here comes Gandalf. I’m sure that he would like to eat too.” And without another word she drops her arm walking back towards the camp, walking stick tapping its way there. There is a moment of silence, of gaping and mouths opening and closing then finally Thorin’s jaw snaps shut and he is growling.

“Bofur would you like to explain to me what that was about?” The hatted dwarf lifts his head, frowning at Thorin who continues his scowling.

“It’s a long story, a long one.” Bofur’s head falls back to the ground as Gandalf comes through the brush, looking pleased as his staff taps a pattern on the ground.

“Well I’m happy to see that you’re all still alive. Since you’re curious Thorin Oakenshield, when the wind changed earlier Bella found herself hit with a face full of troll. As for the rest…We’ll have to let her tell that part herself.” And with that, Gandalf turns and walks back to camp, humming beneath his breath. There is a moment of silence then everyone is hurrying back to the camp only to stop, disappointed. Bella is in her bedroll, her bowl empty and her snores heavy.

Gandalf sits beside her, a bowl of soup spread across his lap and his pipe in his mouth. There is an air of protectiveness around him, daring the dwarves to wake her up which nobody does. Dinner is had in silence and one by one everyone slinks to their bedrolls into fitful sleeps, waiting for the trolls return as smoke rings curl up into the air and melt into the night sky.

* * *

 

Bella is the first one up the next morning, her ear pressing up against the ground and her eyes closed. She has her hands palm down and her toes digging into the earth. She remains like that as the dwarves awaken, ignoring the early morning chatter and offers for food. Nori stares at her, lip curling into what Dori suspects is a smirk as he carries the bowl of morning stew over to her. Bella reaches out, clamping one of her hands down on his boots and shushing him. From her spot beside Gandalf, Dori looks at the wizard and then around the camp. Everyone is staring at Bella who keeps her ear pressed to the ground, waiting.

“What exactly is she waiting for Mister Gandalf? Or rather what is she listening for?” Dori asks and the wizard shrugs with a small spark in his eyes. There is something knowing in his eyes as he lifts his pipe to his mouth, fingers rising towards the bowl. Dori frowns, looking back towards Nori who is being held in place by Bella’s grip on his foot.

“Done yet?” Nori asks and attempts to yank his foot away only for her to grip it harder. Lifting her head Bella frowns at him, milky eyes rolling in their sockets as she shushes him. From their spots the ponies begin to shuffle, tugging at their ties and letting out anxious whinnies and snorts; tossing their heads and stomping. From her spot Dori can see their eyes rolling back to show the whites; their legs splaying out as a crashing comes from the thick brush.

Bella lets go of Nori’s foot and stands up, breath coming in quick, excited pants as the crashing sounds grows louder. Dori can hear panting now, harsh and loud. It’s rough and ragged, eager. There are paws padding across the ground, crashing through the brush and over the sticks; ripping roots from the grounds and unsettling rocks. The ponies are nearly shrieking now, hooves stomping as they tug on their ties in attempts to run. And then there is a warg crashing through their campsite.

It’s enormous, by far the biggest warg that Dori has ever seen. It’s a sandy white color, fur matted and mouth open in a snarl as it charges directly for Bella. There are two hooded figures on its back, sitting up and leaning forward more and more the closer they get to Bella. Behind them are three more wargs, two occupied with hooded riders and the final one unoccupied. The camp is frozen, in fear or shock Dori doesn’t know. They all watch though as the warg charges closer and closer to Bella, mouth open and preparing to deliver its death bite when it stops. It just skids to a stop, teeth still flashing and mouth open as it pants. The first hooded figure dismounts only for the second to slide up, grabbing it by the scruff and giving it a small shake.

“What unfortunate smelling travel companions.” The figure moving towards Bella comments dryly, holding a long fingered hand out towards her.

“Perhaps you are just too used to the smell of wargs. Now are you going to take that hood off or not?” The figure huffs but reaches up and pushes their hood back. There are exclamations and shouts from around the camp, first at the pointed ears and then at the milky eyes they turn towards the dwarves. Gandalf is the one to silence them, standing with a rough clear of his throat.

“How many?” Gandalf demands.

“I heard six wargs and I believe three orcs but there are more. Two were killed while we were riding.” The elf says and then shrugs.

“More are coming, I felt them.” Bella says with an unsettling confidence. The wind changes and both she and the elf lift their heads, taking deep inhales. Gandalf watches them, fingers twisted tightly around his staff as they lower their heads. The elf shudders as Bella lets out a particularly loud sneeze, shaking her head.

“Disgusting creatures. Coming this way. We’ll lead them off Gandalf, what you do with your unfortunate smelling companions is your choice.” The elf reaches out, grabbing Bella’s face between his hands. He leans forward and presses his lips to her forehead, her eyelids, tip of her nose and the corner of her mouth. Then taking her hand he leads her to one of the unoccupied wargs and lifts her onto its back. Remounting his, he gives it a sharp nudge in the sides and again the wargs take off through the brush.

“Gandalf? Could you tell me what exactly that was?” Kili says and his voice sounds far too loud as the wargs crashing echoes.

“Another time Kili, right now we all need to pack up our things and then run.” And again, adventures Dori decides are terribly nasty things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've started to watch the final book of Avatar the Last Airbender which I had not previously seen. It gave me a lot of inspiration to pick this story back up and not let it just sit and collect cobwebs until I graduate. 
> 
> I've added more relationship tags. If you are curious about any then please feel free to ask, comment, give me your opinion. And trust me on this. 
> 
> As for what Bella did with the trolls that will be explained in hopefully the next chapter. Probably. Probably not. Second or third, we'll see.

**Author's Note:**

> So everyone can thank LadyLaran because every time I don't need another WIP or don't want to do a sequel of any sort or extend something. She's always encouraging me and I love her for it :3 so I'm not sure if it'll be the Sisters Ri or only fem!Dori. Comment below what you would like to see as far as that. Only Fem!Dori or Fem!Nori and Fem!Ori too.


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